Solitude
by quieten
Summary: Early Calzona. Arizona tells Callie about her high school experiences.


It's midday. They're lying idly atop the covers, too lazy to do anything more with their day off. The sunlight falls in slanted beams through the window. Arizona watches motes of dust dance in the narrow shaft of light.

Callie looks up from the loopy patterns she is tracing with her fingers on Arizona's bare stomach. "Who were you in high school?" she asks.

Arizona starts slightly at the disruption of the silence, although her girlfriend's voice is soft. Her face crinkles in confusion but her body tenses. "What do you mean?"

Callie inches up the bed, leaning on one arm. "In high school, y'know. Everyone had their cliques, their labels, different parts of themselves that they shared with different groups of friends. What was 17 year old Arizona Robbins like?" She takes Arizona's silence for hesitance. "I was a total nerd," she laughs. "Science fairs, mathletes, band… You name it. I played sport, too. That was probably my only redeeming feature."

Arizona bites the inside of her lip. "I was Arizona," she says, injecting false brightness into her tone. Pulling her shirt down to cover her stomach, she gets to her feet and pads into the kitchen. "D'you want pancakes?" she calls.

She's laying out plates when Callie walks in. She's no Jamie Oliver, but pancakes she can definitely do. Looking up from laying out the jars of jam and chocolate spread, she sees Callie in the doorway. She smiles, wondering how she got so lucky. She hopes she's successfully changed the subject.

"Babe, what's up?" Callie asks, worried. She didn't mean to disrupt their peaceful morning. She'd been thinking about how Arizona had become such a huge part of her life in just a few short weeks: already she was used to co-ordinating their lunch plans, to organising whose apartment they were staying at that night, to buying extra milk on days at her place, because Arizona drinks it like water. She wanted to know everything about Arizona's past, because she was determined to be there for her future. Callie hadn't expected this reaction. Not that Arizona had reacted, as such – it was more of a determined avoidance of the question.

"Nothing," Arizona smiles, transferring pancakes onto plates with a spatula.

Callie crosses the room, covers Arizona's hands with hers. She puts down the spatula and turns Arizona to face her. She's looking down, so Callie has to bend slightly to look into her sapphire eyes. "Arizona Robbins," she says gently. "Don't lie to me, okay? I promise I won't make you talk about it, but please don't lie."

Arizona bites the inside of her lip. Harder, this time. She meets Callie's eyes reluctantly. She nods. "High school… I… I come from a military family." Her eyes silently beg Callie to understand.

Callie cups her face with her hands. "Honey, no. You don't have to –"

But Arizona interrupts. She wants to do this. "We moved a lot. Every few months. I didn't have one friend in most of my schools, never mind multiple groups of friends. My teachers tolerated me because I was driven; my peers tolerated me because I played field hockey like a pro. But I didn't have friends." She's more confident now, more sure of herself. There's a hint of challenge in her eyes: she isn't mad, but she hates people making assumptions. "I had a 4.7 GPA. I ran 5km a day. I could take a man out with one punch and I could name all the bones in the human body. But high school? No. At high school, I was the girl who didn't fit in, the girl with the strange accent. At high school, I was the outsider." Her tone is matter-of-fact, without a trace of bitterness.

Callie's heart drops. She'd known Arizona's father was in the marines, but she hadn't realised the extent to which that had affected Arizona. Her dark eyes fill with concern. She holds Arizona's right hand with her left, stroking her cheek gently with her right thumb. "I'm sorry," she whispers, pressing her lips to Arizona's.

Arizona kisses Callie back. "I went to college and I made friends," she shrugs. "It was okay. I was okay. But high school, that wasn't fun."

Callie nods.

"I never told anybody that," Arizona confesses. She seems surprised. For Arizona Robbins, the past is not as important as the present. She doesn't dwell on it much. High school sucked, but she got through it. It's why she can empathise with the kids she treats who hide the lattice of scars beneath their thin hospital gowns. Their illness sets them apart, just like her moving around did. She knows they're not so different. She interlocks her fingers with Callie's and wonders what it means, that she can tell this woman things she never discussed even with her brother. Impulsively she pulls Callie into a hug, wrapping her arms around her neck. Her lips brand Callie's skin. _I'm falling in love with you_, she thinks.

Callie breathes in Arizona's lavender scent, one hand around her waist, the other stroking her hair. When Arizona pulls away, she kisses her on the cheek.

Arizona's cheeks dimple in a trademark super magic smile. "Pancakes?" she grins cheekily.


End file.
